


Black

by missthingsplace



Series: colours [8]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Colours, Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, Rating: NC17, Ratings: G, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missthingsplace/pseuds/missthingsplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of ficlets, each prompted by a different colour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black

 

 

Chapter 8: Colours: Black

**Title: Black**  
Author: missthingsplace  
Parings/characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen  
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters ... unfortunately.  
Summary: Jack hates wearing black  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: None  
Rating: g  
  
Previous colours: <http://missthingsplace.livejournal.com/170891.html#cutid1>

Jack opened the small wardrobe and lifted out the suit in it's protective cover, hanging it on the door before unzipping the cover and running his fingers down the collar, feeling the new fabric beneath them. It had been a long time since he had needed to wear a suit, even he conceded it was the right thing to wear for such a day but he still wasn't comfortable with wearing black.

Black was a colour he avoided at all times, it was sombre and definitely not his colour. He didn't even wear black boots, hadn't owned any footwear in that colour in years let alone clothes. Until now.  After one more stroke of the smooth fabric he turned his attention back to his appearance, drying his still damp from the shower hair before donning his briefs and socks.

Today was not a day for under shirts he reminded himself as he took the crisp white shirt from a hanger and slipped it on, buttoning it up to the neck before selecting his old RAF tie and running it through his fingers thoughtfully before knotting it perfectly around his neck. He gave himself a small smile in the mirror as he let memories of his time in service wash through his mind before shaking himself mentally and bringing himself back to the present.

He slipped on the suit trousers, even he had to admit the black was flattering but it wouldn't convince him to wear the colour on a more regular basis. After straightening his tie once more he slipped on the suit jacket, breathing out a long sigh before he made his way out the room and into the living room.

“Looks good.” Gwen reassured him seeing the unusual look of insecurity on his face.

“I'm not sure, I mean, it's not me.”

“It's perfect.” She moved closer and took his hand. “I mean it.”

“Yeah.” Jack smiled softly. “I guess so.”

“Is Ianto ...?”

“He's with Rhys, they'll meet us at the church.” Gwen assured him.

“We should go.” Jack said, patting his pockets wondering where his mobile was.

“It's in my bag Jack.” Gwen told him. “Switched off.”

“No interruptions today.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Gwen told him seriously.

Jack moved to leave the room.

“Wait, just one more thing.” Gwen said stopping him in his tracks. “Here.”

She opened her handbag and pulled out a perfect white rosebud, expertly attaching it to his lapel, it contrasting perfectly against the black of the suit.

“There, now we can leave.”

The black limo pulled up outside the church, it was identical to the one already parked in front. Jack climbed out the back followed by Gwen who looked amazing in the deep red gown she was wearing, carrying a bouquet of white roses and almost walked into Jack who had stopped dead.

Looking up she smiled, Jack was looking at Ianto, stood in front of the church wearing an almost identical suit and a white rose on his lapel, both of them with huge smiles on their faces. As soon as their local church agreed to give them a blessing after their Civil Partnership they had arranged it and as Jack walked towards Ianto he knew that some things were worth wearing black for.

The End.


End file.
